She shook her head. “No. Honestly, Scott, if I knew anything at all, I’d tell you. But you probably know more about these murders than I do.”
“Probably not much more,” Scott said, obviously disheartened. “Since the FBI moved in I can’t get anyone to tell me anything. Even the local cops have clammed up.”
“I’m sorry, Scott. There’s nothing I can tell you.”
“Okay…well, thanks anyway, Alyssa.”
She watched as Scott left the porch and headed in the direction of Ruby’s. He was probably hoping to find a story in the gossip of the late-lunch group.
Her gaze went to the park setting across the street. She’d always loved the fact that the city had long ago proclaimed that the center of the square would remain a park area, with no buildings to mar the natural beauty of the wooded area.
Now the park seemed to seethe with secrets, with shadowed darkness where a murderer could meet an intended victim, where evil made plans and carried them out.
For a long moment she scanned the tree line, looking for a tree that resembled the one that had haunted her, but none of the full-foliaged trees looked like the misshapen one in her vision.
She went back inside to her private quarters. She sank down on the sofa and drew a deep breath, fighting the headache that had been pounding at her temples since she’d awakened that morning.
In the last hour the headache had intensified along with a sense of imminent doom. She knew the feeling far too well. It was a vision trying to appear. It was a vision seeking to make itself known.
She also recognized she didn’t have the strength to fight against it. She was too tired, and the morning had already held too many emotional upsets for her to be strong enough to reject the darkness that had begun to obscure her sight.
With a sigh of resignation she allowed the vision to take her through the familiar tunnel of darkness and to the other side where her mind filled with the same vision that had come to her for over a month.
Their lovemaking brought tears of pleasure to her eyes. The caress of Nick’s hands, the heat of his kiss, all brought her an exquisite pleasure that she knew she’d want to experience over and over again.
The tears of joy vanished as the scene changed. She was on top of Nick beneath the gnarled tree and the knife handle was cool and familiar in her fingers.
As she plunged the knife into his chest, his blood ran hot as his blue eyes filled with a horror that shot a surge of power through her.
She came to gasping, sprawled on her sofa with her heart beating frantically and a residual taste of wicked domination in her mouth.
She sat up and drew several deep, cleansing breaths in an effort to further remove herself from the night mare her mind had just presented to her. Her legs were shaky as she stood, a growing sense of horror sweeping through her. She’d believed that in actually making love with Nick, this particular vision would halt.
That’s the way it had always been in the past. When the vision was resolved with reality, the vision passed and she had it no more.
When her aunt Rita had been kidnapped and held, she’d had visions of her until she’d been found, then that particular vision had come to her no more.
She’d seen herself making love to a man she didn’t know, a man who had arrived in town and whom she’d now made love with. So, why was she still having the vision?
She knew she would never, could never stab Nick, yet that’s what her vision showed her over and over again.
It was going to happen. Horror swept through her. It wouldn’t be her, but at some time somebody was going to stab Nick. She knew it with a certainty that filled her with icy terror. Sooner or later, Nick was going to be stabbed to death.
Chapter 11
It was after eight when Nick made his way back to the bed-and-breakfast. He was surprised to see the ice-cream parlor windows dark, the Closed sign turned outward.
When he’d told Alyssa to shut down the bed-and-breakfast, he hadn’t meant for her to close the parlor, as well. He pulled around to the back parking lot and pulled into an empty space. He cut the engine, but didn’t move to get out of the car right away.
He worried his hand through his hair, then released a deep sigh. This case was making him crazy. He’d only worked one case before where getting into the killer’s mind had been so difficult, where getting into his skin seemed so impossible, and that had been Murphy.
Nick hadn’t felt this defeated since the days immediately following Dorrie’s murder when his rage had left him empty and bereft.
They had no viable suspects. It was as simple as that. Initially, Virginia had been a suspect when her husband had been murdered. As was always the case, the first suspect in a murder was a spouse or family member. But the death of Sam McClane had prompted the police to look elsewhere for their killer. Dammit, he’d never worked a case that had so little to go on, so lacking in suspects.
He’d thought about stopping by Ruby’s to get something to eat, since lunch had been a slice of pizza on the run, and dinner had been skipped altogether. But ultimately he hadn’t wanted to go into the busy diner and face the curious glances or questions about the most recent murder from fellow patrons.
Wearily he pulled himself out of the car and dragged himself to the back door. Alyssa was waiting for him just inside and despite his weariness his heart leaped a bit at the sight of her.
Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she was clad in a simple off-white sundress that emphasized the beautiful bronze tones of her skin and the shapely curves she possessed. It was only when he looked into her eyes that his pleasure was swept away by concern.
“What’s wrong?”
Her eyes were the blue-gray of an overcast sky.
“We need to talk,” she said as she took him by the arm and led him to her private quarters.
Something in her dark eyes disturbed him. “Has something happened?” he asked.
She shook her head and didn’t speak again until they were in the privacy of her small living room. She sat on the sofa and pulled him down next to her. She released his hand but held his gaze intently. “I’m afraid for you, Nick.” Emotion filled her soft-spoken words. “I’m so terribly afraid for you.”
He took her hands in his…they were cold, like twin ice cubes. “What’s going on, Alyssa? What are you afraid of?”
She tightened her grip on his hands, her fingers taking the warmth from his. “I thought once we made love…once we acted on the vision, then it would go away. That’s the way it’s always happened in the past… The vision is resolved with reality, then I never have it again.”
“But you’re still having the same one?” he guessed.
She nodded, the movement jerky and oddly uncoordinated-looking. She pulled her hands from his and jumped up off the sofa and began to pace before him with short, quick steps.
“I had it again this morning…the exact same vision.”
“I’d hate to think that the only reason you made love with me was to banish a disturbing vision,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
She stopped in her tracks and stared at him wide-eyed. “Of course that’s not the reason I slept with you.” Her cheeks colored slightly. “I slept with you because I wanted to…I desperately wanted to make love with you.” She reached a hand up, as if to grasp the ends of her hair, but instead dropped the hand back to her side and began to pace once again. “It’s not done…that’s what scares me.”
“What’s not done?”
“The vision! It’s not done.” She sighed in obvious frustration. “Before I met you, and even immediately after you came here, I was afraid that somehow I would be responsible for stabbing you to death.”
“But you know that isn’t going to happen.” He frowned, unable to figure out exactly what had her so obviously disturbed. “Alyssa, would you stop pacing and sit down here and tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Your murder, that’s what’s going on i
n my head.” She didn’t so much as sit as throw herself back on the sofa next to him.
This time it was her hands that reached for his and she held on to him, squeezing his fingers tightly. “I thought you’d be safe because I knew I’d never stab you, no matter what the circumstances. But I realized today that it’s possible the hands I see in the vision, the hands that wield the knife and stab you, might not be my own.”
“Is it possible you’re seeing the killer’s hands?” Nick felt a renewed burst of energy course through him.
He’d wondered before about Alyssa’s vision…if the answer to the killer’s identity might somehow be inside her mind, but dealing with Michael’s murder had driven the thought out of his mind. Now he was riveted by the idea that her vision might contain something…anything that would lead them to the murderer.
“There’s something about the vision I haven’t told you.” She broke eye contact with him and instead looked down at the carpeting at their feet. Once again a deep frown cut into her forehead, worrying him as he waited as patiently as possible for her to continue.
Her hands were warmer now, as if by speaking to him some of the fear that had turned them ice cold had dissipated. “In the vision…when I’m stabbing you…I feel something…something awful.”
“What do you mean, awful?”
“A huge rush of power sweeps through me. I feel powerful and strong, almost giddy with self-righteous glee.” She flashed him a dark glance, then looked down again. “But the worst part is that while a part of me thinks it’s awful, there’s another part of me that loves that rush of utter domination.”
Adrenaline spiked through Nick at her words. “Have you ever tried to consciously summon your visions?”
She gazed at him in surprise. “No. Usually I’m too busy trying to be strong enough to shove them away.”
“Do you think you could summon your vision at will?”
“I…I don’t know. I’ve never tried before. Why?”
“I think somehow you’re tapped into the killer’s mind. I think that maybe somewhere in your vision is the clue we need to break this case.” He’d expected his words to shock her, but she merely nodded, as if she’d already reached this same conclusion.
“So, what do you want me to do?”
He released her hands but held her gaze. “I want you to try to bring on the vision and I want to see if somehow I can get into the vision with you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked curiously. “How can you get in it with me?”
“I’m hoping that if you go into a vision, somehow I can talk to you while you’re there—” He broke off in frustration. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to hear me or not. I don’t know if you’ll be able to answer questions or not. But I think we need to try it, don’t you?”
A touch of fear darkened her eyes and he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side. She leaned into him, feeling small and vulnerable, and a sense of protectiveness battled with his sense of duty. “I know it’s a terrible thing to see, a terrible thing to feel. But I’ll be right here to see that everything is all right.”
“I want to help…but I’m afraid.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, although he knew it might be an empty promise despite his best intentions.
He didn’t know what possible consequences she might pay for delving deep into her dark vision and potentially sharing the mind of a killer.
“On second thought, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. You don’t have to do this.”
“But I do,” she replied. “I don’t want to consciously try to summon up that terrible scene, the horrible feelings the vision brings to me, but I have to. If there is even a tiny chance that somehow my vision holds the key to the killer’s identity, I have to try to find it.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, and as she reached up to grab the ends of her hair, her fingers trembled slightly. “We have to try this, Nick. If for no other reason than to save your life.”
Her words haunted him. Although he couldn’t imagine a situation where he would be at the mercy of anyone with a knife, the frightened certainty in her eyes sent a chill up his spine.
“You want to lie down or something?” he asked and stood from the sofa.
She smiled then shook her head ruefully. “I’ve never tried to do this before, so I don’t know if I need to lie down or not. My visions come to me when I’m standing, sitting or in bed. It doesn’t seem to matter what physical position I’m in. It’s a matter of allowing my mind to be open enough, unguarded enough to allow in a vision.”
“I’d feel better about this if you were lying down,” he said. “I can’t help but remember that the last time you had a vision when I was around, you passed out and would have hit the deck if I hadn’t caught you.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. “I probably should be lying down.”
She stretched out on the sofa and Nick pulled a chair up next to her. He wasn’t sure who was more nervous, her or him. They were attempting to do something she’d never done before…call on a vision and attempt to interact with it. He’d certainly never tried anything this unorthodox before.
She closed her eyes and drew several deep breaths, each time letting the air out slowly. “I just need to empty my mind, let my natural defenses shut down,” she murmured more to herself than to him.
He sat close enough to her that he could smell the scent of her, the slightly sweet, freshly clean scent he’d come to identify with her. His gaze swept over her features, lingering on the long length of her dark eyelashes, her high cheekbones, her straight nose and the full lips that even now seemed to beg him for a kiss.
Warmth centered in his stomach and spread out rivers of heat through his veins. It wasn’t the heat of desire, but rather a softer, sweeter heat. The warmth of caring and protectiveness, and something precariously close to love.
Her eyes sprang open and she smiled apologetically. “This might take a while. I’m so accustomed to keeping my mind busy, guarding against the darkness that always brings the vision.”
“There’s no hurry. Take your time, and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.” He returned her smile, wanting her to know that it was all right if this crazy idea wasn’t successful.
Once again she closed her eyes and he fought back the instinct to tell her to forget it, that there had to be another way besides her going back to the scene that caused her such anguish.
Seconds ticked by…minutes in which Nick’s heart beat with the frantic rhythm of stress and anticipation. She was silent and so still he suspected she might have fallen asleep, but her breathing told him other wise. She breathed too fast, too uneven to be asleep.
He expected her to open her eyes at any moment and tell him it was useless to try, that there was no way she could consciously summon the vision they sought.
He watched her features expectantly, looking for any signs of distress or discomfort, ready to pull the plug on the whole experiment if he thought she was in some sort of psychological danger.
The first sign he got that something was going on inside her head was that beneath her eyelids he saw her eyes frantically moving. He leaned forward, careful not to touch her. If she had succeeded in summoning the vision, he didn’t want to pull her out of it, but he did want to be a part of it.
“Alyssa,” he said softly. She didn’t reply, but her eyes continued to move rapidly beneath her eyelids. “Alyssa, can you hear me?”
“Yes…” The word hissed from her like a summer-sigh kind of breeze.
“Where are you? What do you see?”
“Us.” A smile curved her lips, a smile that warmed his blood. “We’re making love.”
A part of him reveled in the success so far of their little experiment and another part of him felt desire swoop through him as she released a throaty moan.
He remembered that moan from when they’d made love and the memory seared him. He mentally sh
ook himself, knowing how important it was that he stay focused on their ultimate goal.
He knew the moment the scene in her mind changed. She drew a swift intake of breath and her face tightened with tension…with fear.
“Alyssa, talk to me. Tell me where you are, what you see.” He felt her fear wafting from her in waves. It filled him up, tensing his muscles as he saw the terror and fear that twisted her features. “Alyssa…where are you?”
“Beneath a tree…with you.”
“Tell me about the tree. What does it look like?” Even as he asked her this, he wondered if it was possible for her to slow the action in the vision, to focus on a single item rather than allowing the scene to play out to completion.
“It’s twisted and gnarled…I’ve seen it before…”
“Where? Where have you seen it? In the park? At somebody’s house?”
“No…not in the park…I…I can’t remember…I don’t know. Oh, help me… I’m on top of you now, straddling your waist and I feel the knife in my hand.”
“Tell me about the knife,” he said frantically as she tossed restlessly, her head moving back and forth as if to shake the vision from her mind. “Alyssa…the knife. Focus on the knife, just the knife.”
She stilled, a frown furrowing her forehead. “The knife,” she repeated softly. “The handle is carved…black, I think…no…blue…dark blue. The blade is razor sharp and about five inches long.” She began to toss her head once again. “No,” she cried out.
“Look at the hands that hold the knife,” Nick said urgently. “Whose hands are they, Alyssa? Whose hands do you see?”
“Red. I see red.” A sob choked from her. “And now the knife…it’s stabbing you and there’s blood…so much blood. Nick…oh, Nick, you’re dead. You’re dead. And you deserved what you got, you bastard…just like all the others.”
Nick flung himself back against his chair in shock. The last sentence sounded as if it had come from another person’s throat. Deep and harsh and filled with rage, the voice sent an icy chill up Nick’s spine as he realized he’d just heard the killer’s thoughts.
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